Swim Back to Me by Ann Packer Page A

needle. You were with that crazy girl.”
    Now I turned around.
    “You gave me some gorp.”
    “You ate the raisins.”
    “I probably did.” He lowered his chin, gave me a closer look. “What are you doing here?”
    “I just—” I tried to think. “I just wanted to thank you,” I said, and I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bag of pot. “For helping us. Sorry it took me a while.”
    His eyes widened. “What is that, marijuana? You can’t do that, put that away. Here, come inside.” Glancing around, he reached for my shoulder, and I let him pull me toward the house. The woman was still in the doorway, and he beckoned her inside and then closed the door behind us.
    “What’s going on?” he said. “What is this?”
    I looked around. It was dark after the bright afternoon, but I could tell it was different from the other time—definitely tidier, but also cleaner. The air seemed fresh, and the fireplace was empty.
    “What’s your name?” he said.
    “Richard.” I glanced at the woman; she was leaning against a wall, watching me. I knew I should talk. “My friend was Sasha. That day. We were doing the Walk for Mankind, the twenty-mile walk. There was a check-in station right across the street.”
    “That’s right,” he said.
    The woman cleared her throat, and he glanced over at her and then looked at me again. He said, “Richard, you shouldn’t give marijuana to a stranger. Not as a thank-you and not for any other reason. You shouldn’t do that.”
    I stayed still, the Baggie slippery in my hand.
    “I mean, what if I was a cop,” he went on. “Did you think of that? I could be an off-duty police officer.” He hesitated. “Are you in trouble? Do you need help?”
    “No.” I started for the door, shoving the pot into my pocket as I went.
    “Wait.”
    This was the woman. I turned, and she’d moved away from the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. Now I was scared. I got the feeling he didn’t care, but she wanted to do something bad—call the police or worse. They were looking back and forth at each other, trying to talk with their eyes. Dan and Joanie sometimes did this, except Dan usually ended up blurting out whatever he was thinking.
    “It’s hot out there, Richard,” she said at last. “Don’t you want to have a drink of water before you go? We don’t want to hurt you or get you in trouble. Really. Come have some ice water.”
    My eyes got hot, and I held them wide to keep myself from getting teary.
    “Yeah,” Karl said. “Good idea. Come on.”
    He headed for the kitchen and I followed after him. He filled a glass with ice water and gestured for me to sit at the table—in the same chair where Sasha had popped her blister. He sat opposite me and held his hand across the table. “I’m Karl—did I already say that? It’s nice to meet you, Richard.” We shook, and he said, “Oh, and that’s Mary Ann.”
    The woman had come after us but stood in the doorway. She said, “Mary Ann who’s going to wait outside, OK?”
    He shrugged.
    “I mean, should I stay?”
    They exchanged another look, and then she headed for the front door.
    I picked up the glass and drank.
    “Look, Richard,” he began.
    “Thanks for the water,” I said, and I set the glass down and pushed my chair back.
    “Hang on, hang on.” He got up and brought a jar of peanuts to the table. “Have some of these before you go, the salt’ll do you good.”
    I took the jar and shook a few nuts into my palm.
    “So how old are you?” he said.
    “Almost fourteen.”
    “Once you are fourteen you’ll be half my age. So, guess what, I’m twenty-eight.”
    “OK.” I wanted to leave, but I didn’t want to have to pass Mary Ann.
    He said, “I’m twenty-eight, I grew up in Sunnyvale, I’m a manager at the PayLess in Mountain View.”
    I was surprised by the third statement; I’d been sure he was an academic. A scientist—that was what I was expecting. I’d been all ready to tell him I was a